


The opposite of loneliness

by valdomarx (cptxrogers)



Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Slice of Life, it's about being KNOWN
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-25
Updated: 2020-08-25
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:01:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26111530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cptxrogers/pseuds/valdomarx
Summary: Five times Jaskier and Geralt share casual intimacies, and one time that’s not casual at all.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 34
Kudos: 480





	The opposite of loneliness

Geralt tuts. “You can’t go on stage looking like that. Whatever would the nobles say?” He tugs Jaskier’s doublet closed and begins fastening the row of tiny, fiddly buttons.

Jaskier raises a cheeky eyebrow. “Never seems to bother you when I wear my doublet undone.”

“That’s because I’m immune to your harlotry.”

“Harlotry, he says! I wouldn’t have taken you for such a prude.”

“Just looking out for your reputation,” Geralt says, a sly grin creeping across his face. He fastens the last button and smooths down the front of Jaskier’s doublet. The fabric is cool and silky beneath his hands. “Decent at last.”

Jaskier chuckles. “I’ve never been decent in my entire life, as you well know.”

* * *

“Ahh, food, thank the gods. A blessing from Melitele herself.” Jaskier plunks himself down next to Geralt and helps himself to the bread on Geralt’s plate.

Geralt long ago gave up on attempts to maintain boundaries over such apparent trivialities as “my food” and “your food” where Jaskier is concerned. He hides a small smile as Jaskier mops up bits of gravy and meat and pops them into his mouth with over the top moans.

Jaskier is always hungry after a day on the road. And if Geralt makes a habit of ordering an extra large portion of food because he knows Jaskier will pick at his plate rather than ordering his own, then that’s just the habits of travelling with someone you’ve known for a decade, and there’s no need to examine it any more closely than that.

* * *

“Stop that, you big dumb oaf. Let me.” Jaskier smacks at his hands, preventing him from yanking at the annoying knots in his hair. “Honestly, it’s a miracle you ever survived without me.”

“Hmm.” _Miracle_ is not quite the term he’d use.

“Come on, get in the bath and I‘ll rinse out this mess.” Jaskier’s nose wrinkles at the selkiemore guts stuck in Geralt’s locks. It‘s stupidly endearing, the way his face scrunches up like that.

Geralt slides into the bath and obediently dunks his head beneath the water. Jaskier settles on a stool behind him, oils and comb at the ready, and begins the process of slowly, carefully untangling his hair.

Even though Jaskier tugs at his scalp whenever he comes across a particularly intractable knot, Geralt finds it relaxing all the same. Jaskier sings to himself as he works, and the combination of the warm water, the quiet song, and the soft feeling of fingers in his hair have him drifting off in a peaceful bubble.

* * *

“Oh.” Jaskier’s ears go rather pink. “My dear lady, I am most flattered-”

The woman beside him presses herself closer.

“He’s not interested,” Geralt tells her flatly. It’s not meant to be insulting, he’s merely stating a fact. Jaskier frequently delights in company, but he’s not looking for that tonight. It’s perfectly obvious from how his face is turned away from her and the way his fingers are drumming anxiously on the tabletop and the fact he isn’t meeting anyone’s eye.

She turns to Geralt and glares. “And what would you know about it? He can speak for himself.”

“I can, of course,” Jaskier says gently. “But in this case, even with his rather terse verbiage, I’m afraid that my companion does in fact have the right of it -”

She scowls and leans back. “Just as you like,” she says, petulant. “I’ll leave you two alone, as that’s clearly what you prefer.”

Jaskier relaxes visibly as she leaves. He gives Geralt a small nod and they return to their game of cards.

* * *

“May I have this dance?”

Geralt glowers, but Jaskier’s proffered hand remains in front of his face. “I don’t dance,” he growls.

Jaskier laughs at that, high and delicate. “You and I both know that’s horseshit. You’ll dance around a maypole when you’ve enough vodka in you.”

“That’s different,” he grumbles, glancing around at the high ceilings and the impeccably dressed guests. “This is a fancy ball. Not the place for a witcher and a bard.”

Jaskier rolls his eyes. “As if you’ve ever let the opinion of some bunch of snobs hold you back. Come on, let’s scandalise this backwards-arse duchy.”

Geralt feels the smile emerging from somewhere deep inside and it bursts forth across his face before he can stop it. “Fine. But I lead.”

Jaskier scoffs. “Don’t be ridiculous. You don’t know any of the steps.” His face softens for a moment. “But don’t worry. I’ll show you what to do.”

* * *

Another rickety inn, another cramped bed, another night like so many before it. Jaskier warm against him, the familiar patter of his heart beating light and fast, a sound Geralt would know anywhere.

But there’s something different about tonight. Glances that last a beat too long and touches that linger beyond what can be justified by necessity. Something hanging, shimmering in the air between them.

“Jaskier?”

“Yeah?” He rolls over to face Geralt, his eyes glinting in the moonlight.

Geralt swallows, unsure how to find the words. Instead, he takes Jaskier’s hand and threads their fingers together. His thumb brushes against Jaskier’s knuckles and that point of contact feels electric.

Jaskier looks at their joined hands and smiles, so softly. “Yeah,” he exhales. “I know.” He looks up at Geralt, open and fond and achingly familiar. “Me too.”

**Author's Note:**

> This guy was originally posted [over here](https://valdomarx.tumblr.com/post/623451711052333057/the-opposite-of-lonelinessfive-times-jaskier-and) on tumblr.


End file.
